


Shelter in Place

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: COVID-19, Caretaking, Comfort No Hurt, Coronavirus, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Gen, Quarantine, Spoon-Feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean and Sam stay safe together in the bunker.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Shelter in Place

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this story isn't considered disrespectful to anyone - I just wrote it to comfort myself during a weird and scary time.

Sam dropped the paper in front of his brother.

The headline read, **_Novel Coronavirus Sweeps the Nation_**.

“Yeah, I saw that,” said Dean.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think we count as essential personnel,” said Dean. “We’re at least as important as bankers and shit, right? We’re saving lives. It’s like – ER doctors, and then us. We’ll just have to be extra careful about germs I guess.”

Sam sighed. "Yeah. We can get gloves and hand sanitizer, probably. They say to leave the masks for medical professionals.”

So for two weeks they went on more or less as normal, except standing further away from strangers and trying not to touch their own faces (or each other’s faces, which was somehow more difficult if either of them got hurt). They already avoided medical facilities and crowds so that was no different. Sam reminded Dean to wash his hands anytime they got the chance, and they had hand sanitizer in the Impala for when they couldn’t get to a sink.

It wasn’t really that hard most of the time – they usually kept away from anybody but each other anyway. The main difficulty was at restaurants, especially the kind of road diners Dean usually went for, which didn’t have very impressive sanitization at the best of times. Sam started trying to pack meals instead or buy groceries for the road, which Dean turned his nose up at. Once the restaurants started shutting down they got a lot of takeout. 

Sam started steering them towards jobs way out in the remote wilderness – they’d never hunted so many rugaru and so few urban poltergeists. Dean picked up a thermometer from somewhere – knowing him, he probably stole it – and they did a temperature check every night right before dinner. So far, so good.

But then Sam got a niggling little cough, which was really annoying because he was much better about keeping things clean than Dean was. Dean started pressing him about any muscle aches or headaches or runny nose or lack of taste – Sam caught him on the CDC website after they were supposed to be asleep – and he started taking Sam’s temperature every hour until finally he got _one_ reading of 99 degrees. Sam didn’t really feel that bad, just a little generally rundown. 

After doing a surprising amount of research on the various symptoms and risk factors Dean decided they ought to assume it was the virus and stay home in quarantine, and they booked it back to the bunker. Sam found an old scarf that he wrapped around his face, and Dean wore his winter gloves at the pump the one time they stopped for gas. They had to hand off the rest of their cases to other hunters but as Dean said, half the people they dealt with were old or sick or could have some underlying health problem, and it wasn't worth the risk.

Neither of them even bothered trying to get tested – this wasn’t South Korea. Anyway, they didn’t have insurance or even an address they could provide to any county health department. They agreed that watchful waiting was the best course. “Let’s save the docs for the people that really need them,” was Dean’s characteristic take.

“The CDC says we should separate,” said Sam, reading the website. He still had the cough and had admitted to a headache, but nothing else.

“Sammy, you know if you have it, I’m already exposed anyway,” said Dean. “The most important thing is not to spread it to anyone else, so we’ll just go on lockdown here at the bunker for as long as we need to, okay? We’ve got lots of supplies, we don’t need to go out for anything, we’ll just … huddle up.”

Sam suspected this was one of Dean’s “if we go, we go together” type things. He wanted to call him out, but … this wasn’t exactly the same as that time with the Croatoan. And it was true that Dean had already been exposed if Sam had it – they’d just spent the past month in a car together.

And maybe a part of him just didn’t want to be alone either, in the big hollow bunker, not be able to touch his brother. "Okay."

“Soup’s on,” said Dean, carrying over a bowl that smelled strongly of garlic and onion. Sam sat himself up slowly and reached for it, but Dean held it back. “It’s hot,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and stirring it. “Here.” He took out a spoonful, blew on it, then offered it to Sam.

Sam paused, trying to decide how to play this. He wasn’t actually too sick to feed himself. But Dean had been restless all day until he’d finally settled in to cook something, and Sam wasn’t against keeping him occupied a little longer. He sat up as much as he could and let Dean spoon a swallow into his mouth without protest.

“Not feeling any better?” asked Dean, stirring and blowing on another spoonful.

“I feel okay. Mostly just tired.” Sam waited until he was ready offer it up before he opened his mouth. He felt kind of dumb, but he also liked to catch sight of this Dean: tender Dean, who was so invested in Sam’s health and happiness. And the soup was good.

“Well, you haven’t had a fever today, and your cough is better. Maybe you’re on the mend.”

Sam slurped. “How about you? Still got that chest thing?”

Dean was evasive about his health at the best of times, but he’d admitted that he felt a little under the weather and that his chest felt kind of weird. No cough, no fever yet. He shrugged, stirred the soup.

Sam was trying not to panic – they’d both had pneumonia before, and treated it at home, so even if it did get that bad they had some resources. Both of them were keen to avoid the hospital at all costs.

“Seems kind of weird to stay home for something like this, doesn’t it?” said Dean. “I mean, we’ve hunted with broken bones, concussions, stomach flu, broken ribs … now we’re here in the bunker for what, a headache, a cough, a minor fever?”

“It can get worse, for some people,” said Sam. “And it’s not about us. It’s about trying to slow down the spread of it and making sure people can get medical care if they need it.”

“I’m just glad no other world-ending supernatural crap is coming up,” said Dean. “What would we do if something really hit the fan?”

“Hopefully we won’t have to find out,” said Sam.

Later, Sam was lying with his head in Dean's lap, Dean's fingers in his hair. He was almost asleep when Dean spoke next. “You think Dad would have stopped hunting?”

Sam debated lying but doubted he’d get away with it. “Probably not. But Dad was an idiot.”

“Just seems like we should be doing something. You know?”

“It's not our kind of thing,” said Sam.

“Yeah but maybe we should be like, donating blood, or distributing supplies or something - huh?”

“If we’re both infected the best thing we can do is stay home,” said Sam firmly.

"Yeah, I guess."

“You need to stay with me, Dean. What if I get worse, huh? You gotta watch. You've got to be right here, under this roof.”

“Of course I ain’t leaving you,” said Dean, offended. “Obviously.”

“This is what we need to be doing right now. This is how we’re going to help this time.”

Dean’s fingers resumed combing through Sam’s hair. “Okay, Sammy,” he whispered soothingly. “Okay.”

He put his thumb on Sam’s forehead and rubbed slow circles. Sam finally drifted off.

“Fluids,” said Sam, handing him a mug of herbal tea. “How’s your chest?”

“it’s very broad and manly,” said Dean from under a pile of blankets. “Some would say sculpted.”

“Mm hmm, anymore of that tightness?”

“S’better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Sam, bringing over the stethoscope from the med kit. Dean sighed but sat up and let Sam poke and prod him.

“You do sound a little better,” said Sam, brushing a secret kiss over his temple as he withdrew to sit on the bed. So sue him, he was kind of a sap where his big brother was concerned. “Keep taking nice deep breaths. And drink your tea.”

Dean hadn’t ever had a fever or a cough, so who knew what was causing that wheeze – allergies? Anxiety? It could be anything. Or maybe he was just one of those people with an unusual presentation. Sam was just grateful it seemed to be clearing up on its own.

“You know I hate tea,” grumbled Dean.

"I'm not bringing you a beer, so quit asking."

“I spoon-fed you handmade soup!”

“You did, and I’m very grateful, and now you’re going to drink that tea and go to bed early.”

"Hmph."

Sam marked another day on the calendar. It seemed like they were both on the mend. Sam was prepared to offer appropriate gratitude for whatever force in the cosmos was looking out for them this time.They might never know if either of them really had it, but he had already decided they'd be staying in for at _least_ two weeks after there was no sign of any symptoms. Thank whoever was in charge up there for the bunker and its endless heat and well-stocked kitchen.

"S'nice to feel like we're - all in it together, this time, huh?" said Dean.

Sam sat on the bed and started absently rubbing his back. "What?"

"Well, you know ... usually it's all down to us, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded. But this time - s'different. There's like, a whole world of doctors, leaders, ordinary people all doing their bit. Maybe we can’t do anything but hang out at home, but we’re still doing our part here, just like everybody all over the country is. All over the world, even. We’re like, a part of something.”

"I like that," said Sam.

"Yeah," said Dean. "Hey, you wanna lie down again, rest up?" He patted the pillow. "We gotta keep our strength up."

Sam smiled. "Sure."

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe everyone.


End file.
